I Will Be Here
by RicksIlsa
Summary: Peter watches Neal, that's just how it is. But what about when forces beyond his control keep him from watching? Well, he'll just have to do something else... Major Spoilers for 4X8 Ancient History. Three POV's of the time Neal spent in jail. Chapter one is Peter's POV, Chapter two is Elizabeth's kind of , and Chapter three is Neal's POV. Prompt of 'Watching' from the WC LAS on LJ
1. Peter

Note: I am part of a White Collar 'Last Author Standing Challenge'. Our first prompt was 'watching' and it could only be 100 words. This fic was my first attempt, and there was no way I could cut it down to 100 words. Voting for this round is due at midnight tonight, so I', posting Peter's POV now, El's POV (which is the 100 word fic I submitted) as chapter 2 tomorrow, and then Neal's POV later in the week.

Many thanks to my new WC beta Libby, AKA 'Wistful Watcher'

Title: I Will Be Here

Summary: Takes place during 4X8 Ancient History. Peter's POV of the time Neal spent in jail.

* * *

Helpless. That's how he felt... again.

Peter was unable to look away from Neal's distraught face as the NYPD officer drove his CI to be booked at the station. It was the same way Neal had looked at him nearly six months ago when Peter had given him the signal to run from Kramer.

It wasn't right then and it wasn't right this time either.

Granted, the situation had been a bit more desperate the first time. This time, Neal would most likely just have to spend a few hours in jail. Being detained for a night wasn't the same as going back to prison, but even so...

This time, Neal had just been doing his job; doing what Peter had asked him to. Why was it that the nearly perfect justice system that Peter passionately believed in, only seemed to let him down when Neal was involved?

Peter got in his car and followed the police cruiser, only getting delayed a few moments by the barrage of traffic. It took great effort to not yell at the less-than-helpful officer at the front desk who refused to tell him much of anything.

"I'm sorry, Agent Burke, but Mr. Caffrey cannot be released until his ten-thousand-dollar bail is paid."

Peter had already talked to Hughes and things were in motion, but it would still be a few hours before Neal would be released.

"Can I at least talk to him?" He demanded, unable to keep the slight sound of desperation out of his voice.

"No Sir. Mr. Caffery is not allowed visitors."

It was like a punch to the gut.

"But he didn't do anything wrong! Please, he was just acting on my orders. He doesn't deserve this," Peter practically begged.

The officer just stared at him, silently.

"Please. He's my best friend. If I had the money, I'd pay it. I can't leave him alone," Peter had to clear his throat and turn his face away at the unexpected sting of tears that threatened to fall.

The front desk officer sighed. "I'm sorry Agent Burke. I don't have the authority to let you into the holding cell."

Peter turned back to face him and nodded, but couldn't speak. He made to walk away, but then turned back when the office cleared his throat.

The man looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to their conversation, then gestured for Peter to come closer.

"You didn't hear this from me, Agent Burke, but if you stand next to that wall over there, and speak clearly, he will be able to hear you."

Peter smiled at the man, and moved toward the wall he'd indicated.

He laid his palm flat on the surface and then hesitated. He was already starting to attract a small amount of attention. He couldn't just stand there and talk...

As they most often did, his thoughts turned to Elizabeth, and he was already reaching for his cell phone before the plan formulated in his mind.

It did not take long to explain the situation to El, and she seemed to know before he did what had to be done.

"Just keep talking, Peter. Tell me again about your first case with Neal..."

With very little explanation, Elizabeth had understood perfectly what Peter needed from her. And for four hours he regaled her with tales that she already knew by heart about his adventures with Neal Caffrey. The tightness in his chest loosened, and though he couldn't explain it, he knew that Neal could hear him. Peter kept his voice as strong and loud as he could, having to stop several times to cough.

The cell beeped indicating that his battery was running low.

"El, I don't know how much longer I can talk before the battery in my cell dies," he told her, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.

"It's okay, Peter. Even if your phone goes out, just keep talking. I'm not the one who needs to hear you right now anyway."

So he kept talking, through two more 'low battery' beeps, until he suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was the front desk officer.

"Mr. Caffery is being released. You can meet him at the bottom of the stairs down this hall."

"El, I have to go. Neal is being released," Peter rasped, unable to keep the grin off of his face.

"Ok, hon. I love you! Oh, and make sure you bring Neal home for dinner. I need to see that both of you are okay tonight," she insisted.

Still grinning, Peter nodded then remembered that she couldn't see him.

"We might be late, but we'll be there. I love you, El."

He hung up and stuck the phone in his pocket.

The officer handed him a cough drop and pointed toward the direction of the stairwell.

Peter thanked the man, and tried not to run. He needed to see Neal.

As the younger man bounded down the stairs like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, Peter began to wonder if Neal had been able hear him... if Neal had even needed to hear him.

But then he met those bright blue eyes that were filled with relief and gratitude. He knew that Neal had not only heard, but savored every word.

Peter stuck his hands into his pockets and tried to focus on the heat coming from the over-used cell. As much as he wanted to hug Neal, he knew that this was not the time or place. They had a job to do.

When the work was done, he would drag Neal home and relax, content to just watch over him once more.

End


	2. El

**100 word fic for the WC LAS Challenge Prompt #1 'Watching'. It's kind of El's POV of Neal's jail time...**

**Title** Keep Talking  
**Word Count** 100  
**Rating** G  
**Warnings and Content** None  
**Spoilers** 4X08, Ancient History  
**A/n: **This is a phone conversation between Peter and Elizabeth that takes place during Neal's 4 hour stay in jail in 'Ancient History'

* * *

"Hi, hon!"

"I need to talk, El!"

"About what?"

"Neal's in jail and it's my fault."

"What?"

"He didn't do anything wrong. I'm at the station, but they won't let me see him…"

She frowns. Peter watches Neal; that's just how it is. And when he can't…

"If I stay here talking, he can hear me," Peter explains.

Elizabeth calls out for Yvonne to cancel her afternoon appointments. "Just keep talking, Peter. Tell me again about your first case with Neal..."

* * *

Peter barely has a voice left that night when he brings Neal home for dinner, but both men are smiling.


	3. Neal

Part Three: Neal's POV

Out of all the times that Neal had been behind bars this was the first that really wasn't his fault. In the past he always insisted that he'd done nothing wrong, and used the word "allegedly" like it was going out of style. It didn't change the fact that he had almost always been in the wrong and deserved his sentences. But not this time.

He had acted, as usual, with complete faith that he could do what he needed to, to get the job done and Peter would be there to keep things like this from happening.

The loud slam of the cell door latching echoed through the cold, hard jail. Neal shuddered. He hoped any observers would believe it was from the cold and not this sudden, unnamed fear that had his heart racing and beads of sweat forming on his brow.

The cell suddenly seemed smaller than it had before. His two snoring cell mates took up the only bench along the back wall, not even noticing that they were no longer alone.

Everything would be okay. Peter would get him out of this, eventually.

His vision tunneled and for a few terrifying seconds, Neal thought he might be going blind. But then he remembered to breathe and everything came back into focus all too suddenly. He groaned at the assault and shut his eyes, trying to block everything out and just listen.

Over the snores of the men on the bench he could hear the muted talking of the NYPD officers down the hall, the drip of a faucet leaking somewhere, and the rattle of an old heater that probably wouldn't last much longer.

He had to focus on those insignificant sounds, in order to distract himself from the fact that Peter couldn't be there to watch him—and Peter always watched him. It was the one constant in Neal's life; Peter's brown eyes following his every move. Sometimes they held judgment, sometimes amusement, and sometimes pride. His watchful eyes were what made the FBI agent so easy for Neal to trust. For years he ran from that piercing gaze only to find that staying in Peter's sight was much more satisfying than attempting to stay out of it.

For the past three years the only times Peter didn't watch him were when Neal choose to hide from him. Occasionally, he felt the need to hide from Peter for small amounts of time usually in order to accomplish something that might not be technically legal. The last thing Neal wanted was for Peter to get in trouble over knowing about his questionable methods. Despite the necessity to keep things from him, it always felt wrong.

It hit him again that, through no fault of his own for once, Neal was forcibly removed from Peter's watchful gaze. He wasn't prepared for the fear that came with the realization that Peter did not have the power to stop this from happening.

He felt sick and had to take deep breaths again. Neal attempted to push back the fear and focus on the sounds again, refusing to open his eyes and not see Peter there watching him. The sounds turned grating, and his head began to swim.

Just when Neal thought he would be unable to prevent himself from throwing up or passing out, he heard it:The warm, rich timbre of Peter's voice. It was currently raised in anger as the FBI agent was told that it would be several hours before Neal would be released and no, he could not see the prisoner before the paperwork was all complete.

Neal savored the sound, trying to hold on to it and fearing that soon it would leave. Peter would go home and have dinner with Elizabeth. They would talk and laugh and not be bothered that Neal was in jail. They would assume he was use to spending the night behind bars.

It took a few minutes for Neal to realize that Peter was still talking. He couldn't quite make out the words, but there was no mistaking whose voice it was.

Neal crouched and listened. After a few minutes, he was able to focus enough to pick up some of the conversation.

Peter was talking to Elizabeth on his phone. He was recounting some of their cases together. The genuine affection that colored his tone as he spoke of Neal's actions in the take-downs of some very big criminals had the CI flushing with pleasure despite his less than pleasant surroundings.

Neal basked in the warmth of Peter's voice as he spoke on and on for almost four hours. After a while, the FBI agent had to keep pausing to clear his throat. Non-stop talking for so long could not have been enjoyable, but Peter pushed through it.

There was no question in Neal's mind as to why Peter was standing on the other side of the prison cell's wall talking. He wanted Neal to know that he was there. Peter was not in control of this situation, not able to watch him, but he wouldn't leave him to face this alone.

Neal actually chuckled as he suddenly pictured Peter as Jimmy Stewart at the end of 'Mr. Smith Goes to Washington'. Peter would have made the perfect Mr. Smith.

The comfort of knowing Peter was there chased away the fear, and time passed much more quickly. Neal allowed himself to sink to the floor and rest against the wall content in the knowledge that Peter was just on the other side. Before he knew it, the jailer had returned and was unlocking the cell.

Neal was free to go. The adrenalin returned, and suddenly he could not wait to see Peter. He practically ran down the hall and then down the stairwell, not relaxing until Peter's tired, but welcoming, brown gaze met his own.

Neal fought back the instinct to embrace him :The ordeal was over, and they had a job to do. The pair quickly fell back into their comfortable and teasing camaraderie, with Peter fake-complaining about how easy Neal was to catch now.

"It used to mean something," Peter joked, that he was the only one who had ever caught him.

And though Neal knew Peter was teasing, he immediately pointed out that these times did not count. To him, only Peter counted.

* * *

Peter brought Neal home for dinner that night. He said it was at Elizabeth's instance, but Neal knew that the FBI agent wanted to watch him just a bit longer that day.

Elizabeth welcomed Peter home with a sensuous kiss, while Neal greeted Satchmo. When he straightened from petting the dog that he had grown very fond of, El was there waiting with her own greeting for him. A kiss on the cheek followed by a strong hug that lasted a few seconds longer than what most would consider appropriate for 'just an acquaintance'.

He was surprised to feel the tears pricking at his eyes while in her warm embrace. He had almost forgotten that it had been her on the phone helping Peter keep talking in an effort to comfort Neal.

Neal stepped back and looked at both of them.

"I can't... Thank you," he choked out, a solitary tear slipping down his cheek.

El pecked him on the cheek again, and Peter placed a warm hand on Neal's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Dinner was good. Elizabeth was an amazing cook, and she and Neal chatted amicably through the whole affair. Peter mostly remained silent, needing to rest his voice. His eyes rarely left Neal though, and the younger man couldn't have asked for a better evening.

For as much as he genuinely liked the Burkes and always thought very highly of them both, this was the first time he'd ever really considered just how much they had done for him. Because of that, he didn't just think highly of them anymore, he loved them. They were his family.

Kate was gone, forever. Moz was still around, but even he couldn't deny that trusting Peter had been one of the best decisions Neal had ever made. And coming from Moz, that meant a lot.

Alex... well, she had proven that there were more important things in life than Neal. And that was okay, because Peter and Elizabeth had proven that he was worth something.

It was a no-brainier to include both Peter and Mozzie in watching Ellen's tape that Saturday. He trusted them more than anyone else in the world. Except for maybe Elizabeth, who he knew was listening at the top of the stairs.

With all the craziness and uncertainty in his life, Neal wasn't sure what the next few months would hold. But he knew that Peter, Elizabeth, and even Mozzie would be there, no matter what. And because of that, he could face whatever fate had in store for him.

End


End file.
